Francisco's Journal an author discusses the art of writing

February 19, 2016

Publication and Faith

Filed under: Faith,Publication,The Memory of Light,Writing — Francisco Stork @ 9:50 am

My book The Memory of Light was published almost a month ago and I wanted to write about what it feels like to have a book be out in the world. I hope I never lose that first-time sense of awe at having my work be available to be read by others. Publication of a book is the culmination of a process that is full of happenings that are as much or more a matter of chance and good fortune as accomplishment. So many good books, so many good writers with books that have not found the one agent, the one editor who is in tune to the book’s beauty and truth. So one of the things I always remember when a book is published is how blessed and grateful I am to have found people in this world who are willing to spend their time and effort and considerable talent in working with me on something I have written.

Authors talk about the “let down” feeling that comes after completion of a work. The purpose that kept us getting up in the morning for four years (as was the case in The Memory Light) is suddenly gone and we wake up with a now what feeling. It is usually many months from the time the last copyedits are done to the date of publication so by the time the book is published chances are the emptiness of completion has been filled by the hope of a new project. But publication is also a letting go that brings a sweet sadness not unlike what I felt when I dropped my son and then my daughter off at college for the first time. I felt sadness but also a kind of powerlessness. I wanted to continue to take care of them, watch over them, fight for them if need be. But, alas, I couldn’t. They were on their own. And so is my book.

Letting go is so hard. The advent of social media has extended the role of the author beyond the completion of the work and its publication. Here I am writing on my website about the book that’s just been published and while I hope that posts like this have value in their own right (beyond interesting you in purchasing my book), it is still an advertisement of sorts, isn’t it? The continuous role of the author beyond publication of the book is expected and accepted. But I suspect that beyond the expectation and now full social acceptance that it is okay to promote the heck out of your published work, there is reluctance on our part as authors to lose control of the process, an unwillingness to let go. There must be something I can do to lower those Amazon ratings into at least a five-digit figure! Shall I try one more Tweet?

What helped me the most when I dropped my kids off at college was faith. We all, even the most irreligious of us, have faith or faiths that we live by even it it’s the simple basic faith that the sun will rise tomorrow. I had faith in my son and my daughter, in their character and their values. I knew they would make mistakes and have their struggles but I had faith in their ability to make the right decisions. It was not a blind faith, I knew who they were. I also had a more transcendent faith that they would be guided toward a path of goodness and away from harm and evil. It is these kinds of faiths that I think are most needed after the publication of one of my books.

I have faith in the goodness and value of my books. In the case of The Memory of Light, I have faith in the ability of the book to give hope to those suffering from depression and to re-affirm the joy of hope in those who are well. The story of Vicky’s recovery from depression and suicide attempt is a story of hope and of how hope comes to a person’s anguished soul. I have faith that my hard work and the hard work of my editor resulted in a story that is readable and real. I know the character and values of the book like I knew the character and values of my children that day long ago when I pulled out of their freshman dorms. And there is still in me that other transcendent kind of faith. This other mystery-filled faith gives me the assurance that the book will find it’s way to the person who needs just this book at just this time in her or his life. And so these faiths allow me to let go of The Memory of Light full of peace. I will do what I can to bring the book and its values to others’ awareness, but I hope that my actions will be done with the peace of someone who knows that the fruits and results of his labor are no longer his responsibility. It was the trying the mattered. I have done my job. The book is in others’ hands now. It is in good hands now.

November 19, 2015

Ten Observations on Depression

Filed under: Depression/Bipolar,The Memory of Light,Writing — Francisco Stork @ 8:09 pm

As I was writing The Memory of Light (Arthur A. Levine/Scholastic, January 2016), a novel about a young girl recovering from depression and a suicide attempt, I jotted in a little notebook that I kept next to me, random thoughts and observations about depression that occurred to me as I wrote. These kind of didactic aphorisms don’t belong in a work of fiction unless you have a character that can utter them as naturally as a hummingbird hums. Yet, they are part of the musing, reflecting and imagining that happens in the process of writing a novel. I offer some of these thoughts to you in the hope that they may be of benefit to you.

  1. Because depression is part of you, hatred and anger toward it will only hurt you more. Think of depression not as an enemy to be destroyed but as an adversary to be opposed with quiet strength, like the firm but loving opposition to a child’s dangerous whim.
  2. Depression may be a part of you but it is not the whole of you. Nor is depression the part of you that is in charge. The part of you that feels and recognizes the symptoms of depression is the part of you that runs the show.
  3. You don’t think you’re worthless because you have an infection on your leg but often you do when you have depression. What’s the difference? In the case of depression the thoughts of worthlessness are the infection.
  4. Just because depression has a chemical and biological component doesn’t mean that there aren’t good reasons in your life for you to be depressed. A fever tells you there’s something wrong in your body. Depression sometimes tells you there’s something wrong in your body and in your life.
  5. If you have a friend who will go bowling with you or to a movie or window-shopping or do anything where dialogue is optional but not expected, count yourself extremely fortunate.
  6. You’ll know you’re getting better when you notice yourself getting angry at the incredible number of jerks that populate our world. Know that the anger you’ve lived with for so long is making a U-Turn.
  7. There are many things you will dislike doing when you have depression. Figure out which ones you can stop doing (going to cocktail parties or other social functions dominated by small-talk) and which ones you need to do even if you don’t feel like doing them (going for quiet walks, showering, being kind to your spouse, being useful to others, as best you can).
  8. Remind yourself now and then that like all mental illnesses, depression distorts your perception of reality and your reaction to it. A friend that doesn’t call doesn’t mean that you’re unloved by everyone or unlovable.
  9. Listen to Music. Put your earphones on and really listen. Let the music dissolve all thought. Become the music. Your depression will guide you to the right music. There are times when music will save your life.
  10. Depression doesn’t make you more intuitive, more sensitive, more spiritual, a better artist. You are not a better person just because you hate yourself for thinking you are a better person. If you are lucky depression will teach you that you are an ordinary human being blessed with the gift of life. And if you are okay with that, you are on your way to being healed.

June 28, 2015

The Little Things – More Thoughts on Depression

Filed under: Beauty,Depression/Bipolar,Soul,The Memory of Light,Uncategorized — Francisco Stork @ 10:06 am

A few months ago I wrote about some of the lessons I learned while writing The Memory of Light, the novel scheduled for Spring 2016 that deals with a young girl’s recovery from a suicide attempt and depression. I said that one of the things I learned was the importance of having an ideal – an image of someone we want to be. Then in the months that followed that post, I thought and worried that the need for an ideal might be seen as some kind of quest for perfection which, because it is unattainable, might increase the sense of unworthiness, failure and shame so ingrained in depression. So I wanted to add this. Yes, the mental shift needed to heal from depression (which includes learning to function with its presence) requires an orientation toward the future, toward transformation, toward becoming someone you admire. But the healing powers of an ideal can be felt in even the smallest motions toward it. I can remember days when emptying the dishwasher and knowing that I managed to be helpful in some way felt like an accomplishment. Or the days when writing for fifteen minutes in my journal gave me hope. In some ways, the suffocating prison of depression forces you to focus on the little things of life. I like to think of Ivan Denisovich in Alexander Solzhenitsyn’s story about life in the Stalin work camps. At the end of the day Ivan remembers the brick wall he helped build, the unexpected extra cup of soup he received, and says to himself that all in all, it was good day. The small things. The kind word we manage to utter, the understanding silence of a friend, the yellow in the lily, the red leaves of the Japanese maple tree, the rain, the blanket, the memory of a touch, the smell of hot tea. The small things we do and the good things we notice, the glimpses of the beautiful that we catch, the light that we remember, these make up our journey toward our ideal.

The healing of depression will depend on our ability to integrate the aspiration toward something new and a loving acceptance of the now which encompasses not only who we are but who we have been and all that has happened to us. Ancient writers distinguish between spirit and soul. Spirit is an upward force that looks toward the future, seeks becoming, is restless for understanding and achievement. Soul is a downward force that pulls us toward silence, wants to linger in the beautiful and the unusual and the invisible, is at peace with mystery, is compassionate with frailty.The integration of spirit and soul is a life-long task for all, not just for those who suffer from depression. Yet it is in depression where a lot of us most acutely feel the dis-integration of these two vital forces. Depression is an illness of both spirit and soul. There is no upward push of spirit and the downward pull of soul, which in health gives our actions value and meaning, becomes in depression a destructive uncontrollable suction into a painful darkness.

So I come back again to the little things because that’s where you’ll find the wholeness of your soul and spirit. It is soul that will show you little instances of goodness, tiny moments of beauty and joy in your life. And it is spirit that will give you the strength and the direction to use those glimpses of goodness and beauty for the creation of the person you want to be, are meant to be.

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